


Favored By Destiny

by Salmon_I



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Spoiler from the book series, Timelines that make no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_I/pseuds/Salmon_I
Summary: “He’s struggling with accepting destiny.”  Jaskier spoke up, looking mournfully at his now empty mug.“Oh, for…”  Calanthe groaned, then stood up and walked over to where he was sitting.  “Pavetta and Duny are going on a trip to Skellige. Go along. Pavetta is always saying you’re her favorite bard, anyhow.  Sing stupid romantic ballads for them, find someone to fuck the Witcher out of your system, and come back in a better mood. I want you playing upbeat songs at the next banquet you attend, not this lovelorn shit.  You got that, Bard?”She stormed towards the doors, and Eist threw a wink over his shoulder before following her.  Pavetta grinned when she turned back to him. “She likes you, that’s as good as admitting it. And we’ll have such fun on this voyage.  You’ll see.”
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Favored By Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally read a book spoiler on a certain character and all I can say is… well, shit. I didn't even mean to find the spoiler, I was just looking up how to spell a name! And then, oops, followed by Damn. So, if, like me, you haven't read the books, and you don't read spoilers - don't read this. Seriously.
> 
> Also, this is gen, but hints at the various relationships. Could be read as one sided Gerskier or just Calanthe being Calanthe.

Geralt insisted he wanted nothing to do with his Child Surprise, but Jaskier was certain he would change his mind. So, as his friend, he visited Cintra regularly to learn what he could. Calanthe, at first, would rather hang him up by his toes. But Pavetta called him her favorite Bard, and invited him to gatherings whenever she could get away with it.

Writing a love ballad about a princess, her husband, and destiny seemed to be almost as good for business as singing about a Witcher and the monsters he fought. But he doubted he'd ever be so lucky as to be present for another such incident, so all he could do was make the most of this one.

He met Ciri on occasion, but was usually entertaining the adults - not the children. Pavetta told him she liked his songs best, though. So clearly she was a child of excellent taste.

The dragon hunt changed everything.

“If life could grant me one wish, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Jaskier had no idea why his answer to that was to go to Cintra. Maybe to remind himself that there was another that Geralt was rejecting. Maybe to remind himself that if Pavetta and Duny met against all odds, that those destined to meet will meet.

Pavetta was kind to him, treating him like a friend and noting his morose mood. It was Calanthe that got the story out of him, though. Calanthe and too much alcohol. The feast was long over, and everyone retired for the night. That he was sitting on the floor of Cintra’s banquet hall, completely drunk, and surrounded by the royalty of Cintra was a situation so ridiculous it deserved a song. But he was pretty sure he couldn’t find a rhyme if it bit him with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Pavetta was reassuring.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Calanthe groaned from her chair. “You sucked the man’s cock for how long? And when he throws you away, you cry about it?”

Jaskier spluttered at the suggestion. “I never-”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter if you ever really were on your knees for him.” Calanthe interrupted. “You sang his praises all over the land. The only reason he can walk into town without being spit on is you. You gave seventeen years of your life, and he threw you away like a man throws out his wife for a young, pretty mistress.”

Jaskier ignored the flash of Yennefer those words brought up, and took a long drink.

“Oh, fuck, don’t tell me there’s a woman involved.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You are the old wife thrown aside, Bard. And you shouldn’t be moping - you should be furious. Melitele's tits, were you really kicked in the balls by an oxen as a child?” Calanthe snarled.

Damn Geralt, and damn that rumor. Eight years, and it still plagued him in Cintra. “I’m fully functional.” Jaskier decided responding to that part of her words was easier. He didn’t want to think too long about the other part. About outliving his usefulness. About being tossed aside.

“He's bed half the court.” Eist decided to throw out from where he was leaning against a banquet table.

“Fuck the other half, then. Just stop moping over the damn Witcher. What’s so surprising that he tossed you aside? He hasn’t come to visit his child surprise in seven years.”

“Mother.” Pavetta shook her head, giving a resigned sigh.

“He’s struggling with accepting destiny.” Jaskier spoke up, looking mournfully at his now empty mug.

“Oh, for…” Calanthe groaned, then stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. “Pavetta and Duny are going on a trip to Skellige. Go along. Pavetta is always saying you’re her favorite bard, anyhow. Sing stupid romantic ballads for them, find someone to fuck the Witcher out of your system, and come back in a better mood. I want you playing upbeat songs at the next banquet you attend, not this lovelorn shit. You got that, Bard?”

She stormed towards the doors, and Eist threw a wink over his shoulder before following her. Pavetta grinned when she turned back to him. “She likes you, that’s as good as admitting it. And we’ll have such fun on this voyage. You’ll see.”

* * *

  
  


In the years that followed, Jaskier would often reminisce on the start of the journey. It had been, exactly as Pavetta promised, fun. He’d seen the coast, been a guest on board one of the great ships of Skellige. He’d written songs during the day, and played his lute for the crew long into the night. One member of the crew had taken upon himself to teach Jaskier the art of how to win at knucklebones. He’d begun to think that the journey was exactly what he’d needed. A reminder that there were adventures out there still to have, songs still to write - even if it meant doing so far from Geralt of Rivia.

Everything went south far too quickly. The ship from Nilfgaard should never have stood a chance - but their own ship was sabotaged. And when they’d learned who, how…

He’d never forget the look of betrayal in Pavetta’s eyes. Nor the moment her magic went wild again.

_“Lie to me, my love._

_Tell me all is well._

_Look me in the eyes,_

_And save me from this hell._

_“Tell me that our love_

_Was more than a dream._

_That destiny favored us,_

_And was all it seemed._

_“I don’t want the truth_

_If it steals my breath,_

_Turns my world to ashes,_

_Leads those I love to death..._

_“So lie to me, my love._

_Give me not your name._

_Turn from the path you tread,_

_And end this wicked game._

_“Tell me that our love_

_Was all that I believed._

_Written amongst the stars_

_And favored by destiny.”_

As the final note faded from the air, his audience of one stirred.

“There’s no turning from this path.” Emhyr told him.

His rooms at the castle were among the best available. He was afforded every reasonable luxury - even new lute strings when his had worn. Paper to write his music on. He never went hungry, or thirsty. The wood by the fireplace was kept available when the winters grew cold. But the bars on the window and the guards at his door made it no more than a guilded cage. A cage he’d been held in for six years.

“This isn’t destiny. There is a choice.” Jaskier told him.

Emhyr’s lips curled into a snarl. “You don’t understand. This was always about destiny.”

“Destiny says Ciri belongs with Geralt. Not here in Nilfgaard.”

“Your Witcher never wanted his child surprise. He doesn’t get to claim her now.”

“Calanthe-”

“Is dead. Cintra has fallen.”

Jaskier took a moment to digest that information, his throat sticking with it. Emhyr rose and headed for the door. “Lord Urcheon, why keep me alive?”

“...you were Pavetta’s favorite bard.”

The door closed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I know the general timeline but nobody seems to be able to decide how long between the Dragon hunt and the fall of Cintra. I've read everything from 1-10 years. So, I'm pretty sure Ciri's parents' ship sunk six years ago, and that inspired this, especially since we get no info on what happens to Jaskier during the last two episodes. Also, ngl, because Duny's identity took me by complete surprise. Poor Pavetta.
> 
> The lyrics to Favored By Destiny were written by me. So, please, do not use them without permission.


End file.
